Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald
by aisucreamu
Summary: She'd said goodbye to the man she loved on Trenzelore, believing she would never see him again...or would she? It's almost Christmas, and Clara Oswald is about to receive a very special present. Pure souffez/whouffle. Brief reference of River Song and the Twelfth Doctor.
1. Prologue

The air was warm—it was the first thing she noticed. Then her eyes took in the huge open field of waving red grasses, edged with silver leafed forests. The sky hung overhead; reddish orange with the glow of sunset on it. A mountain range rimmed the horizon.

Gallifrey. She had never been there, but she knew it from the Doctor's descriptions, and from images the TARDIS had projected on walls in various rooms inside it. But now she felt she was actually there, standing on Gallifrey, feeling its sultry breeze and enjoying its alien familiarity. She stood alone at the edge of the field, allowing its peaceful and serene appearance to permeate her inner being. For a little while, it was nothing more than Clara, the softly fluttering grass, and the warm wind.

Then she saw him.

He was a distance away, but she recognized him immediately, both from the way he walked and from the sudden flash of purple against the orange and red colors she had been viewing. It was the Doctor, the Eleventh incarnation of him, dressed in his signature purple tweed and he was walking towards her.

Clara's heart did a strange little twist, and began to pick up speed. It was her Doctor, it was truly him. He really was here, and he was coming straight to her. The closer he came, the more his features came into focus. Now the brown hair hanging over his broad forehead, now his long face and prominent chin, now his deep set green eyes and faint eyebrows, now his lips, smiling a little. Each detail set her heart beating faster, until she almost felt it would pound right out of her chest.

She had watched him regenerate and disappear out of her life, seemingly forever, and yet, here he was. She could contain herself no longer. She ran to him, and threw herself into his arms. He opened his to receive her, and pulled her close.

"You're here…you're real, and you're alive, and you're here. Truly here." She pressed her face close to his chest, tucking her head below his chin. Her ears picked up the comforting rhythm of his heartbeats, and she smiled. A tear of happiness rolled down her cheek. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Clara," his voice rumbled above her head. He had always said her name so tenderly, as if it was the most precious sound to him in the universe. He stroked her hair with one hand, and kissed the side of her head. "Yes, I'm here. But only in your dream."

Clara's eyes grew round with his words. "I'm…only dreaming this?" She stood back a step and looked up into his face. But instead of sadness, he was still smiling.

"Yes…but don't you remember what Vastra told you once? Time travel is possible in dreams." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'm from the future. From your future."

She puzzled over his meaning. "I…don't understand."

"I'm visiting you here in your dream from the future. Sometime from now, you will see me again in the real world. Right now you are sleeping in your bed. Right now I am asleep…but I'm in the future. Soon, however, I will join you in your time, in the real world." He cupped his hand around her face. "We will be reunited again."

"How? How can this happen? You're…dead…dead and gone. A new Doctor is in your place…an older man with a Scottish accent. He's off looking for Gallifrey right now. And yet…here we are." She looked at the field they stood in, and then looked once more into his eyes. "How can you…the Eleventh Doctor…come back to me?"

"Trust me when I say it will happen, Clara. I will return," he smiled gently at her, stroking her face. "You will see me again. Soon."

At that moment, the Gallifreyan landscape began to slowly dissolve, and the Doctor himself began to fade from her arms. "No," Clara cried, tears springing into her eyes.

"It's all right. You might forget this dream in the cold morning light, but believe me when I say, Clara, you will see me—this me-again." The last thing she saw was his warm smile, and the final thing she heard him say was, "soon."

Clara Oswald blinked awake in the darkness of early morning. She was surprised to find that even though there were tears in her eyes, as if she'd been crying over something sad, her heart was light, and a kind of anticipation hung over her. _Wonder what I was dreaming to produce that odd combination,_ she mused, and then got up to dress for another day of teaching at Coal Hill School.


	2. Chapter 1: An Unexpected Guest

The flames flickered brightly before Clara's drowsy eyes, as she nodded over her well-worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. It was her third reread of the book, and each time she found something new to intrigue her about it. Tonight, however, warmed by the fire and tuckered out from a full day of teaching, the Count's escapades were definitely not holding her interest. It was three days to Christmas, and Clara was enjoying the cozy warm feeling she got as she considered what the days ahead held. Danny Pink was to come over tomorrow to help her find a Christmas tree and then decorate it and the house. Since the older Scottish Doctor left to search for Gallifrey, Clara and Danny had become closer. She still missed her bow-tied Doctor—she always would—but she was glad for Danny's growing affection. It would make Christmas a little less lonely—especially since it was only one year ago that she lost her beloved gangly-limbed jammie dodger loving friend.

She had almost nodded off when a very loud BANG! emanated from the ceiling above her, and the whole house shook. Startled fully awake, she held motionless, waiting to see if there would be any more shaking. Once she'd assured herself it wasn't an earthquake, but instead appeared to be something striking the roof (which frankly was equally alarming), she rose slowly from the couch and headed over to her hall closet to get a torch. As she crept upstairs, she sussed out which part of the house the noise had come from. Passing through her bedroom, she was startled to see a shadow framed in the glass window on the doorway that led from her bedroom to the roof. She was even more alarmed when it proved to be a human figure that rapped frantically on the panes. Clara summoned her courage and reminded herself that she'd faced down an ice warrior, Daleks, Cybermen and a monstrous parasitic planet. Wielding the torch like a weapon, she jerked the door open.

The figure, which had been leaning against the door, slumped inside at her feet with a moan. But before Clara could take a closer look, her attention was arrested with the sight of the TARDIS, sitting a few feet away on her rooftop, smoke emanating from its closed doors and glowing red and orange at its base, as if it had made a very rough landing. Clara hoped fervently there was no damage to the roof. There was too much snow to tell, and it was continuing to come down.

A hand grabbed her foot, and Clara jumped back, her attention once more on the man who had fallen before her. As she leaned down to attend to him, he groaned out a single word—"Clara."

Looking at him she realized his clothes were smudged and smoking, as if he'd been through a fire. She touched his shoulder, and he turned his head to look up at her.

Clara found herself looking right into the green eyes of her cherished previous younger Doctor. His face was scratched and dirty, but his thick brown hair hung over his forehead just as it used to. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing.

"Doctor…" she breathed, "how-?"

"Regenerated…" he murmured. "Help…"

The word hit Clara like a cold slap. The last time she'd seen him regenerate, he'd gone from the Doctor Clara had grown to love into the cranky, irritable Scottish scold he presently was. At least, the last time she'd seen him, he'd been the cranky Scot. Now-?

She bent down and helped him to his feet. One of his arms slung over her shoulder as she swung one of hers around his waist. As they rose to a standing position, Clara noticed the clothes he was wearing were exactly the same as the ones the older Doctor wore—white shirt, black overcoat with red lining and black jeans. As she maneuvered him towards the bed, her mind raced with the realization that it was extremely likely something had caused him to regenerate back into the form she loved best.

Once over to the bed, he plopped down into a sitting position on top of it, limbs hanging loosely at his sides, obviously in a state of total exhaustion. She helped him take off the overcoat and removed his shoes, then lifted up the covers as he lay down on the mattress. He settled his head on the pillow, closed his eyes and gave a cough. Spiraling out of his mouth came a golden stream of light. Clara watched it sparkle upward towards the ceiling, and then dissipate. Regeneration energy. So it was true…he had regenerated. But why return to this form? Not that she was complaining-! Still…she was curious to know why he would choose it.

Stroking his face, she bent over and gave him a featherlike kiss on his cheek. "Sleep now…whatever happened, you're safe here with me," she whispered. He looked tiredly up into her eyes and sighed, "My Clara," before lowering his lids. He quickly drifted off after that.

Clara gazed at him for a few minutes, her heart racing. The sound of his voice, the feel of his body next to hers as she'd guided him along and the sight of his overgrown chin were all doing the same magical spell over her that he'd had in his previous incarnation. It was intoxicating in its wizardry.

She turned from him and gathered up his singed jacket and worn boots. He'd need a new change of clothes once he recovered, and she had nothing in the house that would fit him in his present form. She would have to see if the TARDIS' wardrobe contained anything from his former self.

Stepping out onto the roof, she cautiously shuffled through the fallen snow up to the TARDIS. It had stopped glowing at its base, and smoke was no longer drifting out of its doors, but Clara had no idea how much damage was inside. Memories of wandering through a toxic, wrecked TARDIS previously with the Doctor made her apprehensive, but she needed to find out. She pulled her TARDIS key on its silver chain out from under her sweater, slipped it into the lock and pushed the door open.

The sight inside nearly made her nauseous from the dizzying effect of the TARDIS' console and interior rapidly changing back and forth from one era to another. It appeared unable to settle on a desktop and stay there. As she stumbled across the smoky room, avoiding the flames from various spitting circuitry, she realized it would be madness to try to make her way down to the TARDIS' wardrobe room right now. With the state the machine was in, she'd be lucky if she could find her way safely anywhere inside. She turned to the rotor, which kept glitching to different forms.

"All I need is a suit of clothes for him to wear now that he's changed back," she remarked, appealing to the TARDIS. It pinged a response. Clara caught a motion out of the corner of her eye, and on the bench on the side of the console, she saw a fresh suit of clothing, complete with boots, laid out. She was tickled to see a bow tie sitting neatly on top.

She picked the clothes up and turned once more to the rotor with a fervent thank you on her lips, when a nearby monitor abruptly switched on and started a recorded message. She swallowed down a lump in her throat when she saw her Scottish Doctor appear and begin speaking.

"Clara," he intoned, in his distinctive burr, "I'm recording this message for you so you know it's really me that's shown up on your doorstep and that I've come to you for help. I've…been poisoned…and I don't think I'm going to make it." At this point she noticed the beads of sweat on his face, and the haggard look in his eyes. "I will probably regenerate before I arrive, so you most likely will be dealing with a new me by the time I get there. Sorry about that." He stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. His voice was shakier when he next spoke.

"I've had a spot of bother, will tell you more about it after I get myself sorted. I might sleep a lot like I did the first time you met this me, so don't be startled if I nod off and you can't get me awake for a bit. Plus, it's likely I'll do some damage to the TARDIS again like I did on my 10th regeneration, so she might not be habitable for a while. Hopefully you won't mind putting both her and me up for a bit during her reconfiguration. Please be patient with me after I wake up, I might be a bit surly and strange at first. You remember how it was."

He paused again as a spasm of pain overtook him, and he groaned. "I can feel it coming on now. I'll see you soon. We had a lovely time this go-round…I'm sorry this me didn't last long enough to make it more enjoyable for you. Maybe the next me will suit you better. I'm going to hope for that. Just remember never," here he bent over in obvious discomfort, "to feed me…any…"

And with a shout of "Pears!", his body began the familiar golden glow, and the monitor went blank.

Clara gave a wry smile. Scottish to the end, she thought, as she made her way through the TARDIS, back out onto the snowy roof and into her bedroom, where the sleeping regenerated Doctor lay. Gently she placed his fresh clothes on the chair near her bed. She took one last look at him as he slept. He actually appeared a bit younger than she remembered him from before. It was as if he'd totally reset himself to the beginning of his previous regeneration, when he went from number Ten to number Eleven. Clara was dying to know why, but questions about the how and why he was here, and why he'd regenerated into the man she'd originally given her heart to then thought she'd lost forever, would have to wait either until the morning…or whenever he woke up. And from prior experience, Clara knew that even after that…she might not get all the answers she really needed to know. He could be cagey when he really wanted to be.

All she knew right now, was that her Doctor had come home to her, and no matter what happened from this moment on…it might hold the possibility of healing a place in her heart that had been broken since last Christmas.


	3. Chapter 2: The New Old Doctor

Late morning light illuminated the snow on the lower part of the roof of Clara's house, reflecting into the bedroom where it pierced the closed eyelids of a newly regenerated Time Lord, and coaxed him from his rejuvenating slumbers. He blinked a couple of times, yawned prodigiously, ran a hand through his mop of thick brown hair, then sat up abruptly. "Clara?" he questioned, but got no response from the empty room or the hall immediately outside. He could hear noises downstairs, however, so he decided to get up and investigate the source.

Jumping out of bed, he noticed his reflection in the mirror on Clara's dresser. His green eyes grew round and his mouth opened in a circle of surprise as he appraised his countenance. Coming close to the mirror he took a good look.

"Back to the raggedy man," he remarked, twitching the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. "Even down to the raggedy clothes." Standing up straight he quickly unbuttoned the shirt, removed it and tossed it aside, leaving himself in an undershirt. He then spotted on a chair the clothes that Clara had retrieved from the TARDIS the previous evening. He stripped off the torn black jeans he was wearing, and slipped into a pair of neat dark brown trousers. He had only just got them on, when he heard the distinctive ring tone on Clara's cell phone. For some reason he wasn't sure of, he slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, as quietly as a cat, until he was just outside of the kitchen. The downstairs noises had been coming from this direction, so he was fairly certain she was in there. He peeked around the corner to see Clara standing at the stove, staring at the kettle, evidently waiting for it to boil. Her cell phone was at her ear, and she was murmuring quiet responses into it. She was dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas, a loose robe and fuzzy slippers. Her rich chocolaty brown hair was a bit mussed. She must've just gotten up from the bed she'd made for herself on the living room couch, which he'd noticed on his way to the kitchen.

Seeing her in such a simple domestic way made his hearts do an odd little flip. He couldn't figure out why, but it made him happy. With an excited smile he crept forward towards her, as she kept her back to him, her attention still on the phone call. As soon as he reached her, he rapidly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. She gave a yelp and jumped, dropping the phone that he smoothly caught before it hit the floor. Turning her head and tilting it upward to look into his face, she gave him a glare. "You scared me half to death," she hissed in a quiet voice. "My dad probably thinks something awful's happened to me."

He gave her the phone. "Set his mind at ease, then," he smiled at her. As she took it from him, he dropped his hands back around her waist, continuing to hold her against himself. This was not lost on Clara, whose further brief conversation with her dad was with a slightly shaky voice. The Doctor added to her nervous state by leaning down and kissing the side of her head, several times.

"No, Dad…I'm okay, I'm fine, I just got startled by something, that's all. Nearly dropped the phone. Yeah, I'll see you on Christmas day. I'm still doing the cooking. No, I won't lose the turkey this time, I promise." She gave a sigh. "Yes, I'll follow your instructions to the letter. Look, I really have to go, the kettle's almost to the boil. Love you—bye." She tapped the phone to turn it off, set it on the counter and turned in the Doctor's arms to face him.

"You're awake," she observed. "How do you feel?"

"Much better, now that I've rested. And even better still, now that I'm here with you." He gave her a blissful smile that made her heart ratchet up its tempo. The significance of their position was not lost on Clara. She had gone from a Doctor who took frequent opportunities to touch and hold her to one to whom touch seemed to be anathema. Now she was back to a Doctor who was more physically attentive. The change was most welcome. Looking up to his dreamy visage, Clara found her gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips, and her heart almost stopped when she realized he was moving them closer to hers, as his eyes began to close.

"D-Doctor," she stuttered, "what are you—"

Before she could finish, the front door slammed and a voice cried out, "Hey, Clara! Let's go before all the good trees are gone—!"

Danny Pink appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, just as the Doctor and Clara jumped guiltily apart from one another. Both of their faces were flushed pink. Danny looked from Clara to the Doctor, sizing him up. The Doctor leaned back against the counter, his hands bracing himself on it. Clara walked forward towards Danny, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Danny!" she blurted, with forced cheerfulness. "You're here! That's right, you did say you were coming about now. I forgot the time! Look at the time! Time I was getting ready."

Mr. Pink was not about to be distracted from the sight of what he had been assuming was his girlfriend, in the arms of another man. A slightly cross one replaced the gobsmacked expression he had been wearing. "Who's this, then? And…how long's he been here?" he asked tartly, nodding in the Doctor's direction.

"It's the Doctor…you've met the Doctor, remember?" Clara rattled off, and then squeezed her eyes shut in frustration and smacked her forehead as she realized he remembered an entirely different looking Doctor. One who looked decidedly older and appeared to be more…fatherly…in relation to Clara. The present Doctor looked anything but parental at this moment, especially since he was smirking at her. She punched him in the arm for being a smart alec, and turned back to an increasingly irritated Danny.

"Are you crazy? That's not the Doctor," Danny snapped, his voice getting a bit louder. "He's old enough to be your dad. This bloke looks younger than me."

"Why, thank you, P.E.," the Doctor drawled, tipping his head in Danny's direction. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Danny glared at him. "How do you know what that old man called me? You his son or something?"

At this the Doctor threw back his head and laughed. "He'd really be insulted if he could have heard that," he chuckled.

"Danny," Clara reached over and put her hand on his arm. "This really is the Doctor. Remember…I told you he was an alien? And he showed you his TARDIS, his spaceship? Well…as an alien, besides having two hearts…"

"And twenty-seven brains," the Doctor wryly inserted, looking innocently up at the ceiling. Clara scowled back at him, then turned again to Danny.

"…he's able to change his appearance. When he dies…if he dies slowly…he…regenerates…into a new form and face. He just did it recently, apparently. He's done it several times. This is the thirteenth time he's changed." She looked up into Danny's face, hoping he could take it in.

"So he went from looking like some old granddad to looking like a teenager." Danny's expression clearly showed he was not happy with the situation. "It certainly looked like you were enjoying that, too."

Clara frowned, and especially when the Doctor interjected with "I'm satisfied to hear that. It was what I was aiming for after all." He sounded a bit smug. Clara wanted to smack him again. Especially since it was obvious he was goading on Danny.

Suddenly it clicked in Clara's brain. She remembered several times when his older self interacted with Danny—they never seemed to get along. She had put it down to his being irritated at the thought she would date a man who had been a soldier. Now she realized it might have been something else entirely. He was jealous of Danny's attentions to Clara. And now that he was in his younger form—he was getting his revenge.

Clara looked from a scowling, obviously angry Danny to a smirking, obviously cocky Doctor. Things were rapidly getting out of hand.


	4. Chapter 3: Questions and Answers

The kettle broke the standoff between the two men, with its loud, insistent whistle. Clara whirled around and took it off the hob. She leaned against the counter for a moment and took a deep breath to regain her courage. Turning back around she faced the Doctor and Danny.

"Look…the kettle's hot. Why don't I make us all a nice cup of tea and we can sit down and discuss this like civilized people?" she reasoned.

"All I want to know," Danny stated with a strained voice, "is why he's here in his underwear, in your house, on a day we were supposed to be meeting for a date."

"One: I'm not in my underwear, if you haven't noticed," the Doctor ticked off, using his long fingers. "Secondly, if you want to get technical about it, this really is MY house, as I bought it for Clara about a month or so ago. I got tired of how cramped it was trying to park the TARDIS in her apartment. The house is actually in my name."

Danny turned an incredulous gaze on Clara. "Is that—is that true? He bought you this house?"

"Well, yes, but it's, well, it's not like that, Danny! He was—he and I were—we weren't—there wasn't anything going on at the time between us then." She waved her hands frantically about, and stomped into the living room. The kitchen was really too confined for all that testosterone. Better to take it out into a larger area to diffuse it somewhat.

Following her, Danny sounded alarmed. "THEN? You mean there's something going on NOW?"

Clara turned and frantically tried to calm him down. "No! I mean, well, no, not right this moment, I mean…no," she finished lamely. "Listen, Danny, he crashed here last night in his TARDIS. He'd just regenerated and he was physically exhausted. His clothes were torn and burnt so I got him some new ones from the TARDIS. It's pretty beat up, too. Both of them are here to recuperate until they've recovered. He slept last night in my bed while I slept on the couch. He'd just come downstairs when you walked in my front door. That's all that's happened."

Danny gave her a long look, and sighed. He looked over to the Doctor, who had followed them into the living room and was now sitting down on the couch, watching them. "So once he's back on his feet he'll be off again, then? Gone?"

Before Clara could answer, the Doctor interjected. "Not until I've had a chat with Clara about a few things."

"Like what?" Danny said, narrowing his eyes. The Doctor narrowed his right back. "Not any of your business," he returned frostily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Danny turned back to Clara. "All right then…I'll leave the two of you to your little chat. But I'll call you later." He leaned forward as if to kiss her, but seemed to think better of it with the Doctor behind her, giving him what could only be described as a glare of death. He took her hand instead and gave it a brief squeeze. Then he left, giving the door a bit of a slam on the way out.

"Why…did you give him a key…to what is actually my house?" The Doctor inquired into the silence following Danny's departure.

"Not for the reason you're implying, thank you very much," Clara tartly replied. She crossed her arms over her chest. "He had been coming over and helping me move furniture from my old place to here. It just seemed easier to let him have a key instead of always running downstairs to let him in when he had something else from my old flat to move into here. I just forgot to get it back from him after I finished moving." She walked over to an armchair and sat down, facing the Doctor.

"Enough about Danny," she continued. "Tell me what happened that caused you to regenerate, and why you look like you do now."

The Doctor's face became drawn. He closed his eyes, and began to relate the past events in a sad, quiet voice. "It all started and ended…with River Song."

Clara closed her eyes, and lowered her head. Of course, she thought. His wife was never truly dead, as long as she was a time traveler. Clara felt she should have suspected that somehow, in some way, River would turn up again. Anything she might have hoped for between her and the Doctor could never exist, as long as River was still out there somewhere, waiting to show up in his life and command his affections. Clara bit her lip.

Her woebegone expression had not escaped the Doctor, however. He quickly rose off the couch and came over to her, kneeling before her and taking her hand. Their eyes met, and Clara was surprised to see tenderness besides the sadness in them.

"It's all right, Clara. Whatever there was between River and I no longer exists. This was the last time I was ever to see her. She has now gone," he swallowed heavily, "to her death." Touching her face gently, he resumed his story.

He had traveled to the human colony of Mendorax Dellora, in the year 5343, on a whim. He'd been following up a lead regarding Gallilfrey's whereabouts that he'd overheard on a lone galactic outpost, and had been passing by the colony when he decided to stop. It was definitely Christmastime of the year there, and he thought it might be amusing to see how they celebrated. He always enjoyed the holiday.

Not long after arriving, he ran into River Song, who didn't recognize him in his last regeneration, being unaware that he'd been granted more of them by the Time Lords. He was also taken aback to find she had not one but two other husbands; one she'd married for convenience, and the other she was planning on running off to some beach resort with. Later on he discovered she'd been married to several others as well. Worse than that, she'd been snitching the TARDIS behind his back, running off with it at random unbeknownst to him. He was starting to feel rather betrayed by what was supposed to be his loving wife.

Eventually, in the course of an adventure with her involving a decapitated head (her most recent husband) and a diamond, she realized he really was the Doctor. At the end of all the chaos they managed to crash land on Darillium; and the Doctor decided it was his final chance to wrap up things regarding his tumultuous relationship with his rather wild wife. A bit of timey wimey arrangements later, he and River entered a restaurant built specifically to his suggestion, to view the fabled Singing Towers of Darillium, and spend their last night together. He gave her the gift of a sonic screwdriver, which he used discreetly to scan her into the neural relay inside it, knowing his tenth incarnation would use it later to upload her into the Library. Receiving the screwdriver with joy, River turned to him and they kissed.

The Doctor then felt his legs go out from under him, and he fell to the floor as his head spun with dizziness. He heard River's voice apologizing to him, and then he saw the face of Madame Kovarian, as she gloated over his prone body. With infinite heartbreak, the Doctor realized his untrustworthy wife had betrayed him again.


	5. Chapter 4: More Answers, More Questions

"Who?" Clara asked, puzzled. She'd never heard the Doctor mention the name Madame Kovarian before, and yet he was acting like it was something horrifyingly familiar.

He was sitting on the floor now, legs crossed in front of him with his arms balanced against them. His gaze was unfocused ahead of him, looking into the past in places often too sorrowful for him to go. But he had to explain, no matter how it hurt him.

"A long time ago…when I was traveling with the Ponds…she was the one who managed to kidnap Amy Pond when Amy was pregnant with Melody Pond—that's River Song's true name. When Amy gave birth, Kovarian took the child and programmed her to kill me. River grew up with one goal—to someday be my assassin. However, through a twist of timey wimey circumstances, she managed to grow up alongside her own mother and father; and Amy instead inculcated in River a kind of infatuation for me. I've told you before that River and I met out of sync with each other; River at times wanted to kill me and at others adored me." He took a deep breath and continued. "I wound up marrying her to restore time to its normal function. The last time I saw her before this circumstance, was at Trenzalore, when you jumped into my time stream. She was already dead then."

Clara shifted in her chair. "But what about Madame…Ko-Ko-whatever her name was?"

Her question broke his reminiscence about River's past. "Yes. Kovarian was a member of a chapter of the Church of the Mainframe that broke away from the main church and joined forces with others to try to kill me. They made several attempts. I had thought her killed during the aborted timeline where I married River…but I was wrong." He shivered involuntarily.

Clara shivered too, and realized it was a bit chilly in the house. She stood up and held her hand out to the Doctor. "Come on…let's go in the kitchen, and I'll heat up the kettle again for tea. You can tell me the rest in there." He took her hand and she helped him up.

The two settled down at the kitchen table with steaming mugs and a plate of jammie dodger biscuits, and the Doctor continued his tale.

After kissing River and then collapsing he didn't remember much, except being moved about and then finally coming fully to on an examination table in a sterile room. River was standing nearby, and walked over to him once she noticed he was aware again of his surroundings. Apologizing once more, River told him Kovarian had blackmailed her into capturing the Doctor using one of her trademark lipsticks. Kovarian had threatened to outright kill the Doctor if River hadn't cooperated. The whole incident with the stolen diamond had been a ruse to try to lure the Doctor into her orbit, and then deliver him to Kovarian. When he'd asked why Kovarian hadn't had him outright killed, River stated that the Silence wanted to harvest samples of his physiology before exterminating him. It seemed that branch of the Church was low on funds, and certain interested parties would gladly give heavy donations in return for any part of his Gallifreyan anatomy that they could exploit medically.

River helped him up, telling him she was going to double-cross Kovarian, and get him reunited with the TARDIS so they could make an escape off of the spaceship they were presently trapped on. She'd been planning this for some time, and she and the Doctor almost accomplished their getaway when Kovarian cornered them.

A battle ensued, and the two managed to make it to a narrow gantry way with Kovarian hot in pursuit. As they reached safety, River shot the support tethers for the gantry way, and Kovarian and her Silence henchmen fell to their apparent deaths into the ship's reactor. The Doctor and River made it to the TARDIS and took off.

The Doctor then asked River if she was interested in going back to Darillium to continue their date. River refused; she felt he was doing it out of pity. She told him she had another obligation—she was leading an archaeological expedition into a planet-wide library paid for by the Lux family. He took her to the meeting point for her expedition team, and parted with her there.

When he returned to the TARDIS, he started feeling the full effects of the poison. Unknown to River, the hallucinogenic lipstick she'd used on him had actually been a fatal poison. Madame Kovarian most likely had switched lipsticks on her at some point, and River had unknowingly given him a kiss of death on Darillium. It was slow acting, which accounted for why, even though he'd escaped with River, he hadn't felt one hundred percent himself since the moment her lips had touched his. Alone in his TARDIS, he'd programmed it to materialize on Clara's roof after coming out of the vortex. He recorded his final message as the surly Scot, pulled the lever to escape the vortex, and then regenerated.

"So…now what? Will you join up with River on her archaeological dig? Now that you know she wasn't really trying to kill you, I'd think you'd want to get back together," Clara speculated, staring into her mug. She felt curiously empty inside after hearing his tale.

"Clara…River is dead now. Darillium is the last place she and I were together at. The Library is where I first met her in my tenth incarnation…and where she last saw me. She was killed there, saving my life and the lives of thousands of other people trapped in the Library. As I told you before, the River you met the first time we went to Trenzalore was already dead. She was a data ghost. Not a person of flesh and blood like you and I." His eyes locked with hers, and Clara shivered a little. There was something very intense behind those green orbs.

"Well, can't you go back into her past and see her there? Or won't she show up again in the future? It…it can't be over…I mean, she's your wife after all," Clara stammered. "Surely you must miss her…"

He released a heavy breath, and looked down at his mug. "Yes and no," he replied. "I miss the good times I had with River. I mean, she loved me very much, and I had a very deep affection in return for her. But…I couldn't trust her. She had been programmed to kill me after all, and there were times I felt unsafe when she was around. Plus she had a habit of acting superior around me…like she knew more than I did. Me! The Time Lord! The Gallifreyan! And she was just a human. She was a special human, owing to her being conceived in the time vortex while on the TARDIS. But she was a human nonetheless. She was clever, sophisticated and sensual, so she had definite appeal; but she was also duplicitous, conniving and faithless as well. For all her going on about how much she loved me, she was certainly quick to find other husbands when given half the chance."

"Were you flattered that she bragged about how much she loved you?" Clara asked, remembering how irritated she herself was when River had acted condescending towards Clara during the "conference call" she was involved in with Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax before the first time she found herself on Trenzalore. She'd twitted Clara unmercifully about not knowing the Doctor's true name. Clara now knew not only that about the Doctor, but his nickname from when he was in school on Gallifrey ("Theta") and what his first face had looked like, all the way through to his repeat performance with this face. She probably knew far more now about the Doctor than River had ever known. Not, she thought sadly, that it made much difference to him.

"Well, yes, in a way," he answered. "I mean, who wouldn't be? She went on about it in detail when we first got into trouble this last go round. How it's like loving the stars themselves and how you don't expect the sunset to love you back."

"Oh, my. I'm sure that pandered very well to your ego," Clara laughed. "You even memorized the very phrases. I'll bet she didn't know it was you when she said it, knowing how you soak up praise every chance you get."

He frowned at her. "If I deserve it I don't see why not."

"You are a conceited little brat! I don't know how any of us withstand you," she was giggling heartily now at his pomposity. The Doctor on the other hand was becoming more irritated. "Clara!" he remonstrated.

"All right, all right, I'll back off," she snickered. Gaining control of her laughter, she asked him the other question that had been burning in the back of her mind. "So…I understand the back story of how you came to be here last night. There's one more thing I want to know…why. Why did you change back to your previous face?"


	6. Chap 5: The Main Question Answered

_**My apologies about being late at uploading this. I've had a rather nasty flu for the past week and haven't felt like much of anything. I'm only just starting to feel alive again. Anyway, here is the next chapter, lots of fluff in this one. Enjoy!**_

Once more the Doctor gave her an expression that could only be described as smoldering. Clara felt her features shifting until they were similar to what they were the day the Cyber Planner told her what he claimed were the Doctor's true feelings about her. Her eyes dilated and her lips parted in soft surprise. She felt that overwhelming euphoria that would creep over her every time the Doctor gave her certain compelling looks. And right now he was telegraphing one that sent her an overpowering message. She hoped she was not misinterpreting it to mean anything other than what it looked like—the Doctor flat out fancied her.

Clara had suspected he did, but when he'd sent her away that final time on Trenzalore—not once but twice, and then told Tasha Lem that the only reason he was alive was because of River Song—she'd gotten the real message she thought he was trying to tell her. Clara Oswald was no more to the Doctor than another one of his many and varied companions. Loved like all the rest, in a platonic manner, but no more than that. His twelfth incarnation had really driven home the point by not wanting to touch her, or let her touch him.

But now…here he was, wearing the face she'd fallen in love with, sitting across from her and practically combusting into flames with the heat of the look he was giving her. It took Clara's breath away.

"The last thing I remember thinking…before the regeneration process took over…was how much I wanted to see you again," he breathed, reaching over for her hand. "How much I wanted to be the man you felt most comfortable with. I guess…the regeneration process followed that internal instruction…and put this face back on for me."

They sat gazing at each other intensely for a moment more, and then Clara's phone jangled. Again they jumped apart. As Clara snatched up the phone, the Doctor sat back, crossed his arms and wryly remarked, "don't tell me—it's P.E."

Clara wrinkled her nose at the Doctor's derogatory name for Danny Pink, as she took his call. "Hello, Danny? What's up?"

"Is he still there?" came Danny's rejoinder. "And if so, when's he gonna leave? We can't wait all day."

"Um, yes, he's still here," she pulled her lips in. "We're still going through some things. It might take a bit longer. Why don't I meet you tomorrow?"

"You know I'm leaving for my parent's place early tomorrow. Today was the best day for us to take care of this. Why can't you just tell him you're engaged to meet me," Danny reasoned.

"Danny…he's been through a lot. He had a lot of people try to kill him recently, and he only just managed to escape. And then his whole body reformed on him. Be patient—he's still recovering from a lot of trauma. You of all people should know what that's like," she reasoned back.

"Don't," the Doctor said coldly, "try to compare my experiences to P.E.'s. He can't possibly know the half of what it's like."

"Shush," she snapped at the Doctor. "I'm just trying to get him to be able to relate."

"Well he can't, so don't try," the Doctor retorted.

"I can hear him," Danny hissed into the phone. "And I agree. I'm human like you, so I relate better to you than he does."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Look…I'll call you later, okay? Later."

Danny sighed. "All right. But see if you can't convince him to find something else to do besides hang around your place. Maybe the Milky Way needs saving or something."

"Goodbye, Danny," Clara growled. She turned off her phone and set it down.

The Doctor stood up from his chair slowly, and turned towards the kitchen doorway. "I think it might be time for me to go save the Milky Way," he said morosely. "I've wasted enough time here."

Startled at his sudden change of attitude, Clara darted forward and grabbed one of his arms. "No…Doctor! Where are you going? What's wrong?"

He jerked his arm out of her hand, and turned to face her. Anger and frustration poured from his countenance. Clara could see something else in his eyes…wounded pride, perhaps? She wondered if something she'd done or said had hurt him.

To prove it, the Doctor started into a tirade. "Well, it's quite obvious to me that you and P.E. are already an item. Far be it from me to play gooseberry to the two of you. I could do it with the Ponds because I'd known Amy since she was a child, and saw her and Rory as family more than anything else. But I'll be confounded if I'll do it for you and P.E. I wouldn't be able to cope with seeing you and him…together…like that. It was getting bad enough before I regenerated. Now it would be even worse, since I thought I had…well. Never mind. You two just go off, get married and have lots of little offspring without me around to bother about. Go on. Mr. Pink is waiting. Call him back." He waved his hand towards the phone on the table.

"Doctor," Clara said quietly, "what are you talking about? I'm not trying to usher you out of here. You're the only one doing that."

"Am I? You're the one taking calls from him and promising to call back," he growled. "Just go marry the idiot and have done with it. It's what you want, isn't it?"

"No…not necessarily," she responded, her voice getting louder. "I know I don't feel strongly enough to marry him, for goodness' sake. "

"So why do I doubt you would feel strongly enough to marry me instead?" he bellowed.

The room went deathly quiet. The two of them stared at each other, faces flushed, the Doctor's last words hanging in the air between them. A full minute went by, but to the pair it felt like a hundred years. Clara opened her mouth, and squeezed some words out.

"Did—what did you just—"she gasped.

His face blanched and he swallowed. "I—I…"

She took a step towards him. He retreated slightly, still looking terrified.

"How can you know unless you ask?" she whispered, reaching up and touching his face.

He captured her hand in his own, and kissed it. "Clara," he murmured, his features softening. "I'm…sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. But…I need to understand. How do you really feel…in your heart…about Danny Pink?"

"Danny came along when I was lonely, after you'd regenerated and changed so much. I thought I was a fool for thinking you cared anything more for me than what you'd felt for all your other companions, a kind of love, but not the kind that plans futures together. Danny showed me affection and I latched onto it," Clara admitted. "I care about him, but ever since some madman showed up wearing a monk's suit at the Maitland's door, I've had a hard time caring very deeply about anyone else, including Danny Pink."

"Clara…my Clara," the Doctor breathed, and pulled her to him. "Ever since the Dalek Asylum I've had a hard time caring for anyone but you. It's been you ever since then, with your sassy remarks and your youthful vitality and your bravery. You are perfect for me in every way and I want you near my side always." He leaned down and placed his lips on hers, softly at first, and then with urgency. His arms wrapped around her and gathered her in closer. Clara returned his kiss with all the fervency of her pounding heart.

Behind them on the kitchen table the phone began to ring again. "Shut up, P.E.," the Doctor said rudely, his lips still on Clara's.


	7. Chapter 6: I Always Will Be The Doctor

Clara pulled herself out of the Doctor's arms. "I'm—I'm sorry—I have to take that call. It's my Gran's special ring tone." Reluctantly the Doctor released her.

"I'll go upstairs and finish dressing while you take it," he offered, playfully bopping the tip of her nose. She smiled and turned to her call.

Racing up the stairs almost two at a time, the Doctor felt much lighter than he had in a very long while. Not since he'd found out he hadn't destroyed Gallifrey did this kind of euphoric sensation rest in his hearts. He felt like he could beat his weight in Cybermen, like he could face oncoming hoards of Sontarans single-handedly, like he could move whole planets and shape star systems. He gave a whoop as he twirled in the hallway and then danced into Clara's bedroom. Gathering up his fresh pile of clothing and boots, he swirled across the hall to the bathroom, where he stripped down to take a shower. Clara could hear him singing boisterously in the bathroom from where she was in the kitchen.

Downstairs, her call finished, Clara tidied up her makeshift bed on the couch. She left the pillows and blankets in place in case the TARDIS was still out of commission. He could sleep here from now on. She preferred her own bed, thank you very much, and she knew from experience that he didn't sleep a lot anyway.

She met him halfway up the stairs on the landing as he galloped down, freshly showered and fully dressed in the new suit of clothes. This consisted of a pair of dark brown trousers, topped by a knee-length deep TARDIS blue wool coat in a naval design with brass buttons, shoulder straps and a wide collar. Underneath this he wore a simple blue and white striped shirt. But something surprisingly was missing.

"Where…where's your bow tie…?" Clara's brown eyes were large with dismay.

The Doctor looked down to the empty spot at the hollow of his collarbone where the neckpiece once sat. One side of his mouth lifted in a melancholy smile, and his eyes looked sad.

"I may be wearing the old face…but I'm not the same me as I was, Clara. There was another me in between. The things he felt and experienced are inside me now, and forever a part of me. The bow tied fellow is gone. I'm the same Doctor inside, but…" he smiled a bit broader, but still sadly, "some of me is going to be a bit different now. I…hope that's okay…?"

Clara looked into his green eyes and smiled bravely back. "It will take some getting used to…I'll miss it and the tweed coat. So are bow ties no longer cool, then?"

"Oi! Bow ties will always be cool, Clara Oswald, don't you forget that. Just like cat pins, celery sticks and velvet smoking jackets will always be cool." He grinned down at her, knowing that after seeing all his different faces, she'd know what he was referring to. "It's just…this time around…bow ties just don't feel right. Maybe that will change, but for now…"

"Well…" Clara sighed, reaching up and touching the spot where the bow tie used to sit, "I'm just glad you came back to me, even if you are a little different. There were a few things I liked about you when you were Scottish, even though you were old and surly. And rude. I didn't like that part much."

"Don't worry…I fully intend to be anything but rude to you this time around." He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her soundly on the lips. The grin on his face matched the one he'd had when they first officially met, that long ago day on the Maitland's doorstep. It and the kiss made all sorts of butterflies go off in Clara's stomach.

"I'm going to check out the TARDIS to see if she's finished repairing herself," he enthused. "I might take her for a bit of a spin if she has. Want to come with me?"

Clara laughed. He was like a big excited puppy. If he'd had a tail, she imagined he'd be wagging it vigorously about now. "I have to shower and get dressed," she smiled back. "But you go ahead. You have some apologizing to do to her. From what you've told me, this is the second time you've messed up her insides while regenerating."

"She'll forgive me. She always does." He looked suitably guilty for a second, and then gave her a grin and a wave and bounced up the stairs to head out to the roof where the TARDIS was parked. Before he reached her bedroom door, however, Clara called out to him.

"Just one more thing, Doctor," she stated, looking up at him from the landing with a hesitant smile. "Look at me and promise you'll come back to me. And this time," her voice cracking a little as a tear slipped down her cheek, "don't lie to me."

He turned to her, the happiness gone from his face, replaced by an expression of deep sorrow and remorse. Hopping back down the stairs to join her, he took her face in his hands, wiping the tear away with his thumb. He looked deep into her distressed brown eyes and sighed.

"Clara Oswald…I promise you…I will return to you as quickly as I can. After all," and here he kissed her forehead tenderly and then leaned his against it, "you are where my hearts are." He bent down and kissed her lips once more.

And with that promise, he skipped once more up the stairs and through Clara's bedroom. When she heard the door to the roof shut and then the TARDIS' whining as it dematerialized, Clara slumped against the wall. Now it was a matter of waiting to see if he'd actually return.

 _ **Shorter chapter this time, sorry, it just kind of seemed like the right place to end it. BTW, this story takes place chronologically some time after The Caretaker. In this version, the events of Kill the Moon and beyond do not take place. Neither does anything involving Missy-there is no Missy in this tale (sorry Missy lovers).**_


	8. Chapter 7: Danny Faces the Truth

Showered and dressed, Clara decided she should dig around in her hall closet to find her Christmas decorations. Most likely she wouldn't be going to look for a tree with Danny, but perhaps she could talk the Doctor into taking her somewhere for one. Maybe even the forests of ancient Norway, or something; that would be interesting. At any rate, she should be prepared to get the house ready for the holidays, no matter who was helping her festoon the place.

Just as she had located the box containing her Christmas lights (on the highest shelf in the back of the closet), the doorbell rang. With a sigh she climbed down from her little stepladder and skipped down the stairs to the front door. She hadn't heard the TARDIS, and she wondered if it was one of her students, or a neighbor.

She swung the door open wide, and was surprised to find herself facing Danny Pink.

"Hello," she greeted him. "I was going to call you."

"I know. I just thought it would be better if I came over in person," Danny replied. He seemed a bit subdued compared to his annoyance earlier. "Is…is he still here?" he asked, meaning the Doctor.

"Not right now," Clara confirmed. "But he'll be back. He's off test-driving his TARDIS after it repaired itself."

"Good. Hopefully that'll give us a bit of time so I can say what needs to be said." Danny headed for the living room, with Clara following in his wake.

"Can…I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? A snack?" Clara offered, as Danny sank into one of the armchairs.

"No…I won't be here that long." Danny gestured to the other chair. "Please sit down, Clara."

She did as bidden, leaning forward and facing him. "What's this all about?"

With a large sigh, Danny began. "First, let me take care of this, before I forget." From the pocket of his jacket, he drew forth a key. "Here. I should have returned this ages ago, but kept forgetting. My apologies."

Clara took her house key from his outstretched hand. "I wasn't worried about it. I knew you'd eventually give it back, " she said, gently.

"I know, but I think I kept hanging onto it in the hopes of…well, never mind. Anyway, returning it represents something else, Clara. It's a gesture that means I'm acknowledging something." He looked down at his interlaced fingers. "After seeing you and him together this morning…well…let's just say…I'm giving in."

A faint memory of someone else saying that to her at some point in time teased Clara's mind for a moment. Somehow she knew this was entirely different from that incident. Mostly because the memory sparked a happy feeling, and this was, judging from Danny's countenance, a more sober occasion. "Go on," Clara prompted him.

"I've never really had a chance, you know, " he looked up at her with a wry expression. "Not from the beginning. Even with the older bloke…I could tell. The way you acted around him; the way he looked at you. He's crazy about you, Clara, and you…you fancy him, too. There was no way I would ever get your heart. He had it a long time ago."

"Danny…" Clara began, her voice cracking with emotion.

"No, it's okay. I really enjoyed the time we had. You are special, Clara Oswald. I've been privileged to think for a little while that you and I might mean something to each other. I just came along too late for that to happen. You gave your heart away a long time ago." Danny stood up.

Clara rose slowly up from her chair, and stepped forward, touching Danny's shoulder. Sad tears glittered in her eyes. "Danny…I'm so sorry…I never meant to hurt you…I really thought…"

Danny touched her lips with his finger, stopping her from saying anything more. "Clara…just promise me…don't let him hurt you. He may be a fantastic alien from outer space with inhuman powers and abilities, but he's still a bloke. I'd like to think you'll be okay with this space man."

Through her tears, Clara smirked. "I think I can handle him. I've…had a bit of experience already."

"Good," Danny leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Then I'll take my leave, and wish you and him a merry Christmas. All the best to you, Clara Oswald."

"You too, Danny. Say hi to your family for me," she replied, following him as he headed for the door. Just as he reached it, the TARDIS could be heard materializing outside.

"Talk about timing," Danny laughed. He stepped outside into the snowy world, Clara behind him. The Doctor strode out of the TARDIS across the street. Seeing Danny, he stiffened and frowned.

"Don't worry, old man, I'm leaving," Danny yelled. "She's all yours." He gestured back towards Clara. "See you after the holidays, Clara, at school."

"Goodbye, Danny. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year," she waved as he got into his car.

The Doctor stepped over to Clara, and put his arm around her waist. She stood watching Danny leave, waving until his car was out of sight.

"What was PE here for?" The Doctor growled.

Clara turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "His name…is Danny Pink…and he was here to say Merry Christmas…and goodbye." She held up her house key. "He gave this back to me, and let me know…he's giving in." Suddenly the memory that had needled her earlier came back in force, and she saw in her mind the Doctor giving her Victorian self a TARDIS key, with the same stated phrase as Danny, but for entirely different reasons.

"You once gave me a key to give me your hearts…he gave me a key to give up on my heart," she said softly. "To set your mind at ease, Doctor, I won't be seeing Danny Pink as a suitor any more."

"Does that upset you?" he asked, quietly, staring off into space.

"From the standpoint of losing Danny's friendship and camaraderie, yes. I enjoyed spending time with him—he's really a wonderful man, Doctor, despite what your jealousy tells you. But from the standpoint of how I feel about you," here she turned and embraced the Doctor, "it makes things a whole lot easier."

"How so?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Now I only have one of you to aggravate me," she demurred, her dimple showing.

The Doctor tapped her nose with a finger. "You are a saucy minx," he smiled. Releasing her, he took her hand and pulled her towards the TARDIS, excitement in his whole frame. "Come on…you've got to see what her innards look like now. It's a whole new design—you'll love it!"

"Wait! Let me get a coat and lock up the house. I've also got a favor to ask of you once we get inside the TARDIS. Hang on a minute." She wriggled her hand out of his and darted back into the house. Returning with her coat, she locked the door and then turned to join him in the TARDIS.

 _ **Again, sorry about how long it took to get this chapter up. I had a hard time getting the idea together! Plus I've started writing another fanfic and got caught up working on it to the detriment of this one. Sorry! Will try to do better next time.**_


	9. Chapter 8: The New TARDIS Interior

Just before the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor slipped behind Clara and placed his hands over her eyes. "What-?" she giggled, dimpled smile gracing her features.

"I want you to wait until you get inside to see her," he responded. "She's really gone all out this time." Clara heard the door of the TARDIS creak as he opened it. The Doctor guided her over the step into the TARDIS, and she felt the ship's cool air slip over her skin. "I don't think I've seen anything this elaborate since…well, you'll see," the Doctor declared, removing his hands from Clara's eyes.

She blinked at the sudden light striking her gaze, and then gasped as she took in the new features the TARDIS had settled on. Before her the room spread out in its usual circular dimension, but much larger than she remembered from previous times she herself and her echoes had been on the TARDIS. She and the Doctor stood on a raised platform that circled the central control area. A ramp led down to the six-sided control panel but this time the control panel's metal surfaces shimmered faintly golden. The column from it led upwards to the ceiling, with the rotors still spinning above, emblazoned in their Gallifreyan writing, but sparkling gold as they caught the light.

The illumination in the room came from the ceiling, where huge cathedral like windows, each with beautiful stained glass, let in sunshine from outside the TARDIS. Each window had huge Gallifreyan writing on it, like the time rotor.

Around the central control panel and lining the walls at its level, were comfy looking upholstered chairs and bookcases full of bound volumes and curios. There were TARDIS blue rugs on the floor, detailed in swirling golden thread with more Gallifreyan symbols. The walls were a soft, warm brown that looked like wood, and a pattern of recessed roundels spread across some of the evenly spaced panels.

The whole effect was warm, cozy and inviting. Clara spun laughing down the ramp, looking upwards at the stained glass windows. She swung her arms around, giddy with the beauty of it all. She finished her impromptu dance at the control panel, where she looked up at the rotor. "It's beautiful! I love it."

A succession of trills and beeps came from the TARDIS herself, along with sparkling golden tendrils that briefly reached out and touched Clara on her shoulders. Startled, she jumped back, but with a wondering look on her face. "Did she just…hug me?" she asked the Doctor, eyes wide with awe.

"What did it feel like?" he asked, coming up to stand beside her.

"Kind of tingling, like fingers gently touching me, but with a slight kick to it." Noticing the Doctor's sudden worried expression, Clara hastened to add, "It didn't hurt. I almost liked it."

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. "Then that's what she did, all right—she 'hugged' you. You know she likes you now, since she remembered you were the one who brought us together."

"Took her long enough to figure it out," Clara wryly remarked, glancing back to the rotor. The TARDIS gave a flat beep at her in response.

"Well, you can't blame her. You probably confused her, considering she'd met your Victorian echo, who was most likely infused with some artron energy. You weren't before you jumped into my time stream, so the pre-time stream Clara disoriented her, made her perplexed by why there were two different versions of you," the Doctor explained.

"Makes sense," Clara reasoned. She turned to one of the upholstered chairs and tossed her coat on it. "Now…about that favor I wanted to ask…" She walked back over to the Doctor, leaning on his arm and dimpling up at him.

"Yeees?" he asked, with a little trepidation as to what was on her mind.

She teasingly patted each side of his face with both her hands. "Don't look so scared! I just wanted to ask if you'd take me somewhere to find a Christmas tree. That's what Danny was supposed to be doing today after all. Now you have to do it."

"All right, then, where do you want to go? Somewhere on Earth? There are some lovely trees in Siberia…and ancient Norway has splendid forests," the Doctor enthused.

"Not ancient Norway. We'd probably wind up in the middle of a group of Vikings planning an invasion," Clara frowned.

"True. I did that once, and I don't think I'd like to repeat the experience. Although I did get a nice space helmet for a cow out of the deal," the Doctor replied, dancing around the control panel, flipping levers and pushing buttons.

"A space helmet for a…cow…" Clara groaned. "I know you're dying for me to ask what that was all about, but I think I'll save it for a boring evening some time."

The Doctor stopped his dance around the TARDIS, and turned to her. "Clara," he growled low, in an enticing tone that always made her shiver with anticipation, "evenings with me are never boring." He straightened up and gave her a seductive look.

She smirked up at him. "You'll have to prove that to me some other time," she purred. Then she laughed at him when he blushed. At that moment the TARDIS jerked them almost off their feet.

"Where are we headed, then?" she asked, when they regained their footing after the TARDIS stopped its shaking.

The Doctor pulled one of the scanners over so they could both look at it. "Sansrithrat the Greater. It's a planet in the Orion belt. There are some lovely trees there I think you'll find perfect for Christmas."

"Do they come with ornaments on them?" Clara asked, leaning on the console and looking up at the scanner, which showed the solar system Sansrithrat orbited in. She noticed there were only five planets in that system—Sansrithrat being the third.

"Don't be silly, Clara. Of course they don't," the Doctor crisply replied. "That's only on the planet I took Madge and her family to. Although those trees no longer exist…or rather they do now, but in the future they won't…or they didn't in the 1940's…or…oh dear. It all sort of gets mixed up sometimes."

"I suspect it's why you ARE a madman. No worries…it doesn't bother me," Clara tossed back. As the TARDIS made its usually loud landing, she sauntered over to the chair and picked up her coat. "So…ready to go find me a Christmas tree?"

The Doctor grinned and led the way to the doors. He bowed down and gestured for her to go first. "After you, my lady."

She giggled and pulled the door open, only to change her demeanor to astonishment at what she saw next.


	10. Chapter 9: Here be!

Dragons.

There were dragons. Walking about on their hind legs, holding baskets in their front claws, rolled up scrolls under their—could you call it that?—arms. Conversing in pairs, dragging young dragonlets behind them, shopping at a market.

In the sunlight, scales glistened, gleaming with designs of spirals and nebulas and whorls on their backs in every color you could think of. Each one set with a different pattern, making every one of them unique and beautiful. In all her travels with the Doctor, Clara had seen nothing like it. It was almost overwhelming.

She turned to the Doctor with wonder in her eyes, and found him looking at her, grinning with joy at her reaction.

"Welcome to Sansrithrat the Greater, to the city of Systossys, and the empire of the dragons! Here you'll find some excellent candidates for a Christmas tree." Waving one arm out to indicate the square the TARDIS had landed in, the Doctor draped his other arm over Clara's shoulder. "Of course we'll have to go outside the borders of the city to find one, but in the meantime, I thought you might enjoy seeing the city first. Lots of interesting sites here. Lots of interesting food and drink as well."

Glancing around again, Clara took it all in. The buildings, made of stone, were embellished with gems. Each building glittered with one particular color, each one different from the other. Outside of the doorways, glass signs were hung, images and lettering on them probably indicating the nature of the business. The TARDIS was translating them for her, but she still had trouble understanding exactly what their purpose was. One stated it was a 'burnishing shop,' another proudly proclaiming it sold 'stakes' and 'spears.' Clara fervently hoped that wasn't for anything to be used against humans.

At one edge of the large center of town, were brick stalls set up for the market. Here dragons bustled about, arguing prices, examining goods, making purchases. The Doctor headed straight for it.

"You must, you really must try the local delicacy here. A kind of grilled fowl, seasoned with herbs grown in the countryside just outside of town. It really is delicious," he rattled, his arm sliding off her shoulder and down to her hand, which he took as he tugged her forward. Clara stumbled after him, a bit intimidated by the dragons, which were well over seven feet tall at least, and as wide as two people. They also had long tails, which she studiously tried to avoid as they made their way to the market. The Doctor pulled her over to a stall, where behind a brick counter stood a red-scaled dragon, with a curious metal like apron over its midsection. Clara saw raw, birdlike plucked poultry, hanging at one end of the stall, waiting to be cooked. Nearby were long metal spears, propped against the back of the stall.

"Two of the smaller ones, my good man, cooked medium," the Doctor ordered, smiling up at the dragon. He held up the psychic paper, and Clara wondered as usual what the dragon must be seeing on it, as it smiled and nodded, accepting the psychic paper as some kind of substitute for their currency.

"With or without extra spice?" the dragon responded, in a voice that gave extra sibilance to the way it pronounced the 's'. If Clara had to guess its gender, she would put it down to male as to the depth of that voice. But she wasn't ready to swear to it.

The Doctor turned to Clara. "How hot…do you like your food? I must warn you their spices can get pretty fiery."

"I like a good spicy curry like anyone, but I think I'll go without for a first try," she replied. She'd had some interesting off-Earth food in her time traveling with the Doctor, and some interesting experiences with the results of her eating it. Better not take any chances like what happened to her once when she ate too much of that Gandahoovian rice.

Grinning at the dragon, the Doctor completed their order. "Without extra spice."

With fascination, Clara watched as the Dragon turned, pulled down two small bird carcasses, placed them on a spear, and then turned to a soot covered brick wall, and proceeded to breath flames of fire onto the meat without a second thought. With skill the beast turned the spear, controlling his flaming breath to make sure every inch of the meat was cooked to perfection. It took very little time.

The dragon then pulled two stone plates out from under the counter and slid each cooked bird onto each plate. "Enjoy, envoy of the Galactic Interstellar Friendship Conference. It is my pleasure to serve you."

Grinning, the Doctor took the plates and handed one to Clara. He fished napkins out of his bigger on the inside pocket, and they made their way to a stone fountain to sit on and enjoy their meal.

Clara carefully pulled a leg free of her fowl and took a bite. A large smile crossed her features. The Doctor wasn't kidding—this was the best poultry she'd ever had. The spices were intriguing; a little like a cross between Greek and Italian seasoning. It really was delightful, if a bit greasy and messy.

"Didn't I tell you?" the Doctor mumbled, in between chewing. She nodded back, her mouth full. Sometimes, moments like this, sitting watching huge dragons go about their day as she ate food she'd never find on Earth, more than made up for the dangerous ones she faced traveling with the Doctor. She looked up into the azure sky and smiled.

At that moment, what appeared to be an elderly dragon with golden scales, stopped directly across from her. It narrowed its eyes, and bobbed its head, looking her up and down. Then it stomped over to stand directly in front of her.

"It's you…it really is you, isn't it?" It lowered its head to look in her face. Clara, startled, sat back, almost into the fountain. "It really is you," it breathed softly, and then smiled. One of its paws came up and gently touched her face with its claws. "Back from the dead. This is a miracle, but then, you always were one," it murmured.

The Doctor, watching all this, set his food to one side, and then wiped his hands with a napkin. "What…what are you talking about?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

Without replying to the Doctor, the golden dragon stepped back, tipped its head up and let out a cry. "Coooo-eee-oooo! Come and see! Come and see! The savior of the dragons has returned to us! It's a miracle!"

Then he moved forward, grasped Clara's hands in his own, and drew her up, pulling her into the square. Before the Doctor could react, the dragons surrounded Clara, milling about her excitedly. He could hear excited dragon voices, taking up the cry.

"The savior?" "Is it real?" "What's old Ssandar saying?" "Ossswin Claire is back!" "No—it can't be true!" "See for yourself, there she is! They're lifting her up!"

Sure enough, the Doctor could see Clara being lifted up above the dragons, high in the air. He tried to reach her, but too many bulky dragons blocked his progress. Clara's voice wavered back to him. "Doctoooorrr!" Her uncertainty spurred him on to trying to shove his way to her. But the crowd suddenly carried her off, deeper into the city. Desperate to reach her, he pushed himself between scaly bodies, only to earn their ire at being so roughly handled. Two of the dragons grabbed his arms and threw him back.

"Here! What's your game then, sir? Leave Ossswin alone. Guard, hold this fellow, he was trying to impede the crowd." One of the dragons handed the Doctor to a burly armored dragon, which then took him in a steely grip.

"Wot? Impeding the crowd? At this moment, when Ossswin has returned to us? How dare you sir, I will put you aside so you may calm down," and still holding the Doctor firmly in his scaly grasp, the dragon took the protesting Doctor into a building, marched him down a long hallway and placed him in a cell.

 _Again, apologies for this being so late. I am embarrassed to admit I didn't have an idea of what I was going to do next from the last chapter. I have a definite idea of how the story is going to develop, but as for where they were going to get a tree-I hadn't thought that part out yet! Took me forever to come up with an idea. I've got one now and I hope you will like it. :-)_


	11. Chapter 10: Oswin Claire

The cell, the Doctor discovered, was about five aggravated paces in one direction, before he had to turn around and pace towards the opposite wall. He calculated it was as wide as it was long. He was impeded in exploring this theory, however, by the presence of the other occupant of the cell—a scruffy looking dragon, sound asleep and stretched out against the far wall on a pallet on the floor of the cell.

The bars of the cell were narrow, preventing escape. The Doctor would have used his sonic screwdriver to unlock the cell, except that his screwdriver was still in his other jacket somewhere in Clara's house. Possibly waiting to be laundered. Which meant it was absolutely useless to him at this moment.

Pacing once more in the opposite direction, he smacked his hand against his forehead. "I am an idiot—I manage to pack into my pockets my psychic paper but forget the sonic. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How am I supposed to rescue Clara if I'm not properly kitted out to do so?"

He abruptly stopped pacing when he heard a loud noise from down the hall. It was a very loud clank, followed by heavy footfalls and the sliding noise of a dragon's tail. Someone was coming, preferably to release him from the cell. He didn't have long to wait.

Looming up into view came the very dragon that had flung him in here, four hours and fifty-seven minutes ago. The Doctor threw himself at the cell bars.

"Come to let me out, I hope? Seen the error of your ways, I presume?" he excitedly chattered at the dragon. "Well, all of us make mistakes. No problem, I promise not to hold it against you."

"Wot's all that? Error? Nossir, you was makin' a fuss and needed to cool down. However, 'tis true that Her Honor told us you were her friend and that she wants you by her side at the dinner being given for her. So, yes, I'm letting you out, sir." The dragon fiddled with the lock and then swung wide the cell door. "Come with me an' I'll take you to Her Honor."

Stepping out of the cell in an affronted manner, the Doctor pulled at his coat lapels and strode down the hall. The armored dragon relocked the cell and left its remaining occupant, the sleeping dragon, who hadn't even cracked an eyelid during the Doctor's release, to its slumbers.

A few twists and turns of hallway, the Doctor and the guard dragon emerged into a great hall. In the center, many stone tables were set up with low benches near them. Food was piled high on glass and stone dishware. Dragons wandered about, spearing the delicacies in their claws and munching happily away as they talked with one another. At the far end of the hall was a raised dais, and on a stone throne sat Clara, chatting happily with an elegantly bejeweled dragon wearing a tiara.

"Clara!" the Doctor yelled, relieved to see her well and in good spirits. Turning his way, she spotted him and waved him over to her side. He wasted no time in crossing the hall, dodging his way around dragons, to skip up the steps of the dais and stand beside her.

"So!" The Doctor clapped his hands together and grinned. "What've you been up to while I was biding my time in a dank cell for five hours and seven minutes?"

"Up until about forty-five of those minutes ago, Mister, I had no idea where you were," Clara icily remarked, smile frozen in place. "You might thank me for getting you freed after I learned where they'd stashed you."

He dropped to one knee by her throne, and took her hand and kissed it. "My apologies, your Honor, and my eternal thanks and gratitude." Rising again, he grinned cockily. "So what's this all about? You've risen in rank from companion to Her Honor. What caused that, ay?"

The elegant dragon sitting beside Clara eyed the Doctor narrowly. "Ssssir," it hissed, "I would request that you be more respectful of Her Honor, after all the service she rendered us these twenty life-cycles ago. She is the savior of the dragons and deserves your esteem."

Clara turned to the dragon, holding a hand up to soothe the beast. "It's all right, Sssassordra. He doesn't know the full history. Remember? This is the Doctor, but he's got a different face now."

"Ahh, yessss, the way of the Time Lords, to shed their old skin and come out with new bodies. The one we dealt with had much whiter hair, with a lot of fluff to it." The dragon regarded the Doctor critically. "This one has a lot of hair, but it's much straighter."

"My third self," the Doctor remarked. "That was quite a while ago. I've had about ten more changes since then."

"Remarkable," the dragon replied. "Still, we thank you, sir, for being a part of rescuing us that fateful day. If you had not been here, the dreadful Okssstrajursss would have decimated us with their emnotic bomb. Even so, it was our beloved Ossswin Claire who sacrificed herself destroying the secondary bomb that was discovered as the Doctor left the caverns it was in. Truly, she saved his life as well, as had she not done so, he would have been caught in the full blast. She took the brunt of it."

"I remember that…I thought I'd dealt with the only bomb the Okstrajurs had laid. I was surprised when a secondary blast went off just as I reached the mouth of the cave. I had to leave quickly in the TARDIS to catch up to the Okstrajurs' ship as the cowards left orbit. So I never knew what happened." The Doctor gave Clara a look of wonder. "Oswin Claire…must have been one of your echoes…saving me yet again," he whispered.

She smiled up at him with a flirtatious sidelong glance. "Yet another reason to treat me with more respect," she taunted him.

Resisting the urge to snatch her off her throne, grab her up into a bear hug, swing her around and then kiss her senseless for her coquettish behavior, the Doctor merely gave Clara a cheeky smile back. He then turned to Sssassordra. "So I take it this banquet is in Clara's—Oswin Claire's—honor, then?"

"Yesss…and since you also were instrumental in rescuing us from obliteration, it shall be in your honor, too, Doctor. Servant!" Sssassordra raised a claw to summon a nearby smaller dragon standing in wait nearby. "Bring another throne for the Doctor to sit upon, while we feast and then entertain the two. Make haste!" The servant bowed, and quickly skittered off. Soon it returned, along with two others, carrying another stone throne, and then placing it next to Clara's. The Doctor sat on it and reached over to take Clara's hand. All around them cheers were lifted, cups were raised in their honor, and the dragons laughed, sang and clumsily danced in celebration of their two liberators.

Several more hours went by, and Clara found herself nodding as a young dragon stood up to sing an ode to the Doctor's feat. It had been an exhausting day and she could feel fatigue creeping over her. The Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder. "Tired?" he asked, as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"It's been a rather taxing day," she answered. "And we still haven't gotten a tree for my Christmas."

"Ah…I'll take care of that now," he smiled, and squeezed her shoulder gently. Leaning over her, he got the attention of Sssassordra, who had been watching the singing dragonlet, who evidently was her grandchild. "Sssassordra? May I ask a favor?"

The dragon gave Clara and the Doctor its full attention. "Of course, honored ones. You may ask for anything you so desire. It is the very least we owe you for saving our lives."

"Ah, good," the Doctor replied. "There is something you could help us out with…"


	12. Chapter 11: The Truth About Trenzalore

Clara took a sip of her hot cocoa and contemplated the Christmas tree before her. Compared to earth trees it was similar to a spruce you might find anywhere in a Norwegian forest; the same sort of trunk shape and long, curved branches. The difference was this one was gold in color; shining and shimmering with the strands of lights and the ornaments Clara and the Doctor had spent the evening decorating it with. It was almost overwhelming in its alien beauty.

After receiving permission from the dragons to harvest a tree from the forest just outside their city, Clara and the Doctor had taken their time choosing just the right one. Well, Clara had taken the time. She smiled at the remembrance of the Doctor's irritation as she rejected first one then another tree as being too tall, too imbalanced, and too short, etc. Considering it was to go into her living room, Clara felt she was entitled to make sure she got the perfect tree. Although she understood the Doctor's point of view—it was not polite to be too fussy over the dragons' gift—she still wanted to have an ideal tree. Finally she deemed one adequate, and a young dragon cut it down for them. The Doctor scanned it with the sonic, and requested they give it a rinse in hot water to make sure they would not be bringing home any unwelcome otherworldly pests. After the dragons followed his directions, they dragged it into the TARDIS, where the Doctor had it dried using the TARDIS' powerful air circulators. They said their goodbyes to the dragons, and then headed back to Clara's.

The Doctor helped her get it into her tree stand and set up in the living room, and then they began to decorate it. First up were the lights. Clara smiled again thinking about the Doctor getting tangled up in them before getting them on the tree. Then he found the mistletoe in one of the boxes, and made good use of it before Clara convinced him to hang it up in the doorway to the kitchen. After that they hung Clara's collection of ornaments on the tree. The Doctor was very interested in the ones Clara showed him from her childhood; especially the star shaped ones her mother had collected over the years. He smiled at her tenderly when she placed on a branch a little red maple leaf ornament she'd bought before last Christmas. Finally the two of them stood back and admired their handiwork.

"Now that's a proper Christmas tree," the Doctor remarked, draping one arm over Clara's shoulder.

"It's beautiful," Clara sighed. "Too bad it'll have to be tossed at the end of the holiday."

"Not at all," the Doctor grinned. "This tree is like a dried flower—it will remain in this state indefinitely. You can set it up year after year. Might get a little dusty, but otherwise, it will look the same—the needles won't drop off and the branches won't break."

"No wonder you suggested this as a gift from the dragons! I'm set for life with regards to Christmas trees now." She turned to the kitchen. "How about some cocoa after all that hard work?"

"Love to, but, um, I've got something I've got to take care of with the TARDIS. I will be right back." And with that, the Doctor danced over to his blue box, which was sitting in one corner of the room. Before Clara could stop him, he slipped into the machine. She was left reaching into thin air as it dematerialized with its signature sound. Her arm dropped to her side and she frowned. What on earth had that been all about? Where was he off to now?

With a huff, she headed into the kitchen to make cocoa. Even if he didn't want any, she did. She just hoped he'd be back before Christmas, or this would be a very un-merry holiday for her.

So now she stood before the tree, thinking back on all that had happened. Looking at the clock, she frowned. It was already nine thirty. What with their adventure on the dragon planet, then setting up and festooning the Christmas tree, she found she was quite exhausted. Sitting down in one of the comfy living room chairs, Clara soon nodded off, dreaming of the Doctor and Christmas.

Which is where he found her when the TARDIS returned, an hour later. Slipping up quietly to her chair, he bent down and kissed her gently on the temple. "Clara? Clara, I'm back," he whispered. She stirred and rubbed her eyes, then looked up into his face. "You did come back," she murmured, sleepily.

"Why wouldn't I? Like I said, you are where my hearts dwell," he smiled gently, holding one of her hands.

"I wasn't so sure of that, last Christmas," she demurred, her lower lip trembling.

"Clara," the Doctor replied, his voice full of contrition. "There's something I need to explain to you about that." He took her hands, gently pulled her up out of the chair, and led her to the couch. They sat side by side, the Doctor snuggling in close to her with his arm around her.

"First let me reassure you that I love you with all my hearts. You are dearer to me than my own life…I would gladly give it up to protect you from permanent harm." He kissed her forehead tenderly, lingering there for a few moments before speaking again. "I am…not proud of what happened on Trenzalore between the two of us. I handled things clumsily, without thought to your feelings. But when I realized what was happening…when I saw the crack in the wall…all I could think of was myself. I didn't want to go through watching you die on Trenzalore, and I was convinced you would. Something…a Dalek, a Cyberman, a Weeping Angel…would be the end of you, and I would find myself standing in agony of sorrow over your grave. Your family would never know what happened to you…would be left to mourn your loss without closure. I couldn't do it…so I lied to you…sent you away…tried to be cold-hearted to you…and yet…inside I was brokenhearted. The last thing I wanted was to part with you, but I felt I had no other choice. Try and understand that, and forgive me for being so churlish about it."

Tears filled Clara's eyes at his words. "I know…you're telling me the truth…but please understand how it felt to me. You lied to me…tricked me…abandoned me. You talk about agony! Having to go back to my family without you…knowing you were alone on Trenzalore, in danger…that was pure torment for me. And then seeing you as an old, old man…at death's door…without hope. I felt driven to speak to the Time Lords and beg them to help you."

The Doctor's eyes widened with shock as he took that in. "You…you spoke…to the Time Lords? You never told me you spoke with them…I thought they granted me the extra regenerations out of pity for my plight. Why didn't you tell me you'd said something to them?"

"You never asked," Clara crisply remarked, giving him a wry look.


	13. Chapter 12: A Merry Christmas Indeed

**_Hello! First things first...I meant to get this up before Christmas (you'll see why at the end) but was unable to because of work and trying to get things ready for the holidays. So my apologies about being late. At least I'm before New Year's! Anyway, one other thing...someone mentioned that yes, Clara has been to Gallifrey before. I'll be honest and tell you I completely forgot-she's actually been on Gallifrey twice, if you count her echo being there and giving the first Doctor the TARDIS, as well as being there when the War Doctor was about to use The Moment on the Time Lords and the Daleks. So yeah, I did space and forget she has been there before. If I ever revise this I'll make sure to change that mistake. Anyway, here's the latest chapter...enjoy! One last thing...this is not where the story ends, there is more to come. :-)_**

"So…you spoke to the Time Lords…what did you say? What did they say? Please," he took her hands into his, "tell me everything."

With a deep breath, Clara began her tale. "It was the second time I came back, when you were so very old and dying. You'd gone up the clock tower to confront them all. I was so afraid for you…so sad that you'd been fighting all this time alone…and yet so angry. Here you'd been risking your life for so long to protect the Time Lords…and they…they did nothing to help you. I was livid." Her mouth tightened into a straight line as she relived her frustration and anger. "You'd think for all you'd given them they'd at least do something to help you out, especially considering how old you'd gotten, and how near you were to death." She let go of the Doctor's hands and stood up, then strode across the room to stand in front of the tree. After a moment she resumed.

"I walked up to the crack and told them they needed to help you, and that all the name they needed to know you by…everything they needed to know about you… was tied up in that name…the name of the Doctor. And if they loved you they should help you."

"And? Did they respond?" He arose and walked over to her, looking anxiously into her eyes.

"Yes. The crack snapped shut, reappeared later in the sky and they gave you the extra regenerative energy. That's it. That's all that happened." She looked up at him with an apologetic expression that there wasn't anything more to tell.

The Doctor gazed down for a moment, thinking over what she'd shared. Then he looked back up into her eyes, a gentle smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"My impossible girl…does the impossible for me again. You really are making a habit of this. First you save me from my despair and loneliness after losing the Ponds…then you jump into my timeline and save me from the Great Intelligence, over and over again…then you save me from making the greatest mistake of my life by keeping me from destroying Gallifrey…and then you save me from certain death by convincing the Time Lords to give me extra regenerations." He reached up and stroked the side of her face with one of his hands. "What next will you save me from?"

"Probably yourself," she smirked, the dimples on her cheeks framing her mouth and making her even more enticing to the Doctor. "Sometimes my biggest job is saving you from your own ego."

"Oi!" he grinned. "I'm not that bad!"

"Oh?" She danced away from him, laughing. "I've known you even before your first regeneration. And you've had an over healthy ego from day one, Mister."

"You little…" With a barely contained grin overtaking his features, he made to grab her. Clara giggled and evaded his grasp, but she couldn't elude him forever. His long arms soon wrapped around her and trapped her against him. Laughing in triumph, he then bent down and kissed her lips soundly with his. Clara gave in and nestled into him.

"Clara…my Clara. How I love you so," he murmured, kissing her temple.

She sighed. She had so longed to hear those words from him…from the moment she'd realized he had her heart, when she'd watched him regenerate. Then she had hoped he might still love her, in his twelfth body; but he had withheld any sort of physical affection from her, and so she'd thought any affection he'd held for her was lost with his regeneration. Now was her chance to find out the truth.

"You've told me you still cared for me even while you were tricking me on Trenzalore," Clara ventured. "But I honestly thought you really stopped loving me when you regenerated. You wouldn't touch me and you seemed repulsed by any affection I showed you. I…I don't understand. Why did you change? After you'd regenerated…after we left Vastra's house and started back to the present time…you told me you 'weren't my boyfriend.' You were all but admitting you had thought of yourself that way in your eleventh form. Why tell me, since it sounded like you were informing me you had no intention of thinking that way again."

The Doctor looked uncomfortable for a moment. With a sad expression, he leaned his forehead against hers, then began to explain.

"Clara…you have to understand…I have never stopped loving you, not even in my last regeneration, old and Scottish I might have been. I loved you just as much as I ever did. But the new body didn't like that kind of contact—I can't explain it except that I felt uncomfortable giving or receiving physical affection. And by the time I got used to being in that body…and getting close to finding a way to show you affection…I ran into River Song and the rest is history."

He released her from his arms and turned away from her. "There's…something else as well. When you took up with Danny…I started pushing you away…because I was afraid."

Clara reached out to him and touched his arm. "Afraid? Of what?"

"Afraid that I was losing you…that you didn't love me any more…because I was old. I didn't want you to have Mister Pink…but I thought you didn't want me either." He looked back at her with tired, forlorn ancient eyes. "I couldn't bear to watch you walk away from me. That's why I went off to find Gallifrey."

With a light slap on his arm, Clara remonstrated him. "You idiot. If you had just shown me even a small modicum of affection, had not been so…acerbic…if I'd only known how you felt…I never would have gone after Danny."

His eyes shone. "Is…is that true?"

"Yes, you twit. I'm not making it up. Vastra tried to remonstrate me by calling you my 'dashing young gentleman friend…a lover.' She was criticizing me because she thought I was only impressed by your youthfulness. I told her if anyone could flirt with a mountain range, it was me, and I wasn't distracted by a pretty face." She gave him a sideways cheeky look. "Yes, I fell in love with your pretty eleventh face," she admitted. "But I also fell in love with the man underneath it. And to be honest, I find all your faces charming. I just happen to like the present one the best."

He grinned and put an arm around her. "That works for me, as it's the one I'm presently wearing."

Clara put a hand to his chest to keep him from pulling her too close. "There is one thing I'm curious about, though, Doctor. I understand now why your previous self—the Scottish one—was so reluctant to be openly affectionate. But…why are you so open about your love for me at this time, in this regeneration? What changed your mind?"

The Doctor took a deep breath, looking away from Clara with a sad expression. "After my experience with River I realized that you are one of only three women in my life who have ever loved me selflessly. One is lost to me in the mists of time, and one was lost to me in another dimension. But you…you are here, living, breathing in the now of my timeline. I didn't want to run from you anymore," he finished, turning to gaze into her eyes again. This time, Clara was willing to let him pull her close, but instead he stepped back from her. Taking both her hands in his, he dropped before her on one knee. Then he reached into his pants pocket and withdrew something.

Before her startled eyes, he held up a small TARDIS blue velvet box, containing an impressive diamond ring. "That's why I've decided now is the perfect moment to do this. I don't want to live without you any longer. Instead I want you to make me the happiest man in the universe and become my wife. Will you marry me, Clara Oswald?"

"Yes," Clara whispered without hesitation, tears springing into her eyes.

He immediately stood up, slipped the ring on her finger, and then pulled her into his arms and kissed her lips, passionately. In the background, the clock in the corner chimed out midnight. The Doctor lifted his head slightly, and kissed her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor," she replied, aglow with happiness.


	14. Chapter 13: Christmas With The Oswalds

"More pudding, love?"

The Doctor sat back and dabbed a napkin to his lips. He was replete with happiness. It had been a marvelous Christmas, from the delectable turkey to the plum pudding with sauce he'd helped Clara put together only fifteen minutes previously in the kitchen (there had been a lot of giggling and kissing and feeding each other spoonfuls of sauce before Clara's aunt had opened the door and tutted at them for being late with the dessert).

Waving his hand at Clara, he declined another helping of pudding. He turned to her grandmother, and winked. Gran toasted him with her wine glass and gave him a downright saucy smile. They'd been flirting shamelessly since she walked in the front door. He was still trying to figure out how Clara had wound up with such an adorable grandmother.

"That was a grand dinner, Clara," her father Dave sighed, patting his stomach. "I even enjoyed the brussel sprouts."

"Thank the Doctor," she responded, as she started clearing the table. "He showed me a way to make them palatable."

"Never have liked edible green things," the Doctor murmured, playing with the little toy dog that had come in his Christmas cracker. "The less they taste like normal, the better."

"Whatever you did, it was superb. Thank you both," Dave remarked. "Well, I suppose we old folks better totter off and leave you two lovebirds to the rest of your Christmas."

"Oh, you don't have to leave so soon, Dad," Clara remonstrated, coming back from the kitchen to stop him. "The Doctor and I aren't ready to toss you out just yet."

"Oh yes, let's watch telly," Gran smiled. "There should be some dandy good programs on now."

The Doctor leaped out of his chair and grabbed the remote. "Let's see what we can find, hey gorgeous?" he smirked, plopping down next to Gran on the sofa where she had moved. Clara wondered if she should be jealous. After all, he was closer in age to Gran than he was to Clara herself…even if it was still by a thousand years or so. She cleared some more plates from the table and wandered into the kitchen. As she scraped bits of food off them, she looked up to find her dad had followed her in, carrying the remains of the turkey. He set it on the counter, folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen table.

"He's not really Swedish, is he?"

"Sorry?" Clara looked at her father with confusion for a moment, not sure what he was referring to.

"Your fiancé…the Doctor. You explained his…lack of clothing last year when we first met him as his being Swedish." Dave gave her a wry look. "That was a bit of a stretch, wasn't it?"

Clara chewed her lower lip. Setting down the plate she'd been holding, she turned to face her father. "Dad…there's something I really should tell you about the Doctor, but it's going to be difficult to believe."

"He's a little green man from Mars," her father grinned.

She scrunched up her nose. "You're not far off."

Dave's arms dropped to his sides and he leaned forward with disbelief. "He's from Mars?"

Taking a deep breath, Clara plunged ahead. "He's an alien. A Time Lord. He's from a planet called Gallifrey. He has two hearts, and a time machine."

Her father stood poised for a moment, as if waiting for a punch line. "And-?"

"And that's it," Clara stated. "Oh—and I've traveled with him in the time machine to other worlds. Last Christmas we went to a place called Trenzalore, where he died, and was regenerated into that old man you saw me having coffee with one time at school. Just recently he regenerated again, back to the younger version."

Dave's mouth had drifted slightly open as he took this all in. With a skeptical look in his eye, he queried her further. "How old is he really? Is he a young man or an old one?"

"Both," she ventured. "An old man in a young body."

"How old?" Dave pursued, placing strong emphasis on the first word.

Clara screwed her eyes up toward the ceiling, and curled her upper lip as she ventured the implausible. "About nearly two thousand years?"

Closing his eyes, Dave mustered his courage to respond. Then his eyes snapped open. "If everything you're telling me is true…what on earth are you doing marrying this ancient alien?"

"I love him, Dad. I love everything about him. I even loved him when he was an old man. He is fascinating. He's traveled so many interesting places and times…he's had thousands of experiences in his lifetimes. He's kind, compassionate, caring…oh, he can be stern and odd and strange and at times…once in a while he'll scare me…but he's never been someone I didn't care for deeply. I…I sacrificed myself for him several times, and he saved my life and brought me back from oblivion. I've lived through adventure and danger while traveling with him and I can't imagine myself anywhere else except by his side." Clara's eyes were shining as she finished. She then noticed the Doctor, who had just walked into the kitchen with an empty wine bottle. He must have heard some of what she'd said, as his eyes were shining into hers. He gave her a gentle smile.

Dave turned around, facing the Doctor. "And you…why do you want to marry my daughter? She could be your granddaughter."

"My great-great-great-great-great—well you get the idea—granddaughter, actually. And no, she doesn't seem like that to me, sir." The Doctor was still looking towards Clara, warmth and love radiating from his expression. "Your daughter is amazing. She is clever, smart, brave, funny, beautiful, loving, courageous and selfless. I'm honored to have her love. I know I don't deserve it," he finished quietly.

Clara made an impatient sound and moved over to him, taking him in her arms. "You deserve all the love in the world, as often as you've saved it," she said softly, nestling her head against his chest.

"I think I'd better go and find out what's on the telly," Dave remarked, walking out of the kitchen. Clara and the Doctor, literally wrapped up in each other, didn't notice him leave.

Clara's Aunt Linda looked up from the couch where she was seated with Gran, watching an interviewer chat with the winners from Strictly Come Dancing. "Did you find out why he paraded in front of us stark naked last year?"

As he sat down beside her, Dave stared blankly at the telly. "Maybe that's how they celebrate Christmas on his planet," he remarked dryly.

"I was a little disappointed he didn't celebrate it that way this year," Gran mused, with a small smile.

"What? Are you serious?" Linda snorted.

With a sly look, Gran responded. "Don't tell me you weren't hoping he would, dear," she smirked.


	15. Chapter 14: The Doctor Has a Request

Several weeks later, the Doctor was sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading up from the console room to the upper level of the TARDIS. The nervous energy he was under was visible from the way he tapped one of his heels, and fidgeted with his hands that rested one each on his spread-apart knees. After a few moments of mumbling under his breath, he brought his legs together and leaned his elbows on his knees, his hands folded together under his prominent chin. He was staring fixedly at the doors to the TARDIS that led to the outside world. That outside world was the field in front of Clara Oswald's block of apartments.

He stood up abruptly, and strode to the control panel in the center of the room. "I could just take a short hop around the Ophiocles Nebula and take a peep at the gas cloud surrounding it." He danced around the control panel, flipping switches and hitting buttons with abandon. "It's supposed to shimmer several different colors if you view it from just the right angle. I've been meaning to do that for ages. It would only take a moment." His hand paused on the lever that started the TARDIS on her way. Then he drooped over it.

"It would figure that just as the TARDIS materialized, Clara would be right outside those doors, wondering why I was running off," he groaned, drooping over the lever, but not pulling it down and activating the powerful time machine. He let go of it and twirled around, facing the front doors again. "Argh!" he moaned aloud. "Why is this so hard? It shouldn't be so hard! We're getting married—this should be a time of happiness and joy. Why am I so worried about telling her?"

In his hearts he knew why…that which he needed to tell her might cause her to call the whole thing off. And that was the last thing he wanted. Rejection from her would be devastating. His whole being was poised for this moment in time—when the two of them, himself and Clara, would become one. This was part of it. But he knew how strange…how alien it might appear to Clara.

He stood straight, to his full height. This was all a part of their joining; he shouldn't be afraid. All he had to do was make it sound as natural and normal as it was on Gallifrey. He could even try wording it so she would be eager to do it. With a smug smile and narrowed eyes, he swaggered towards the door. Let her come in now. He was ready for her.

And at that exact moment, one of the doors swung open and Clara skipped into the TARDIS, all excitement and animation. "Doctor!" she cried, quickly coming down the ramp to join him at the console. "I've finally settled on a gown. I tried it on today and it's just exquisite. Just wait 'til you see me in it!"

She literally cannoned into him, arms wrapped around his waist, swinging him around with her until her back was to the console and the Doctor towered over her, slightly dizzy from the spin. With a grin she looked up into his eyes. "Happy to see me?" she asked.

His equilibrium restored, the Doctor smiled back, the complacent expression still on his face. Inside the jelly he'd been only moments before was starting to return. "I've been waiting for you with anticipation," he quipped, leaning down to kiss her briefly on the lips. It was at least a half-truth. He'd been anticipating with dread the thought of trying to explain the strange and unusual to a human mind—one that might reject the notion outright. And he couldn't, no he couldn't chance that. This was important.

"I found the dress at Sylvie's—that's a new wedding dress gallery in the Brunswick Centre. They've got the most gorgeous dresses you've ever seen there. It took me ages going through them to make a decision. The shop girl was very helpful, though. She was very sweet about all the rejects I was tossing her way as I tried them on. Took a long time to figure out which one looked the best. I was torn between two of them—one a kind of ivory color, and the other—Doctor," Here Clara came full stop, tilting her head to one side and looking quizzical. "You're not listening to me, are you?

"Yes, of course I was. Sylvie's. Wedding dress. Patient shop girl. See? I was keeping up," he stated, scratching his cheek as he worked up his nerve to bring the topic around to the reason why he'd asked her to meet him here in the first place. "Sounds wonderful. I can't wait to see it on our wedding day. I'm sure you'll look a dream in it. And speaking of our wedding day, I…I've got something I need to talk to you about, " he ventured, finding his mouth going suddenly very dry.

"If it's about having jammie dodgers and fish fingers and custard at the reception, Doctor, we've already had this discussion and it was no," Clara remarked, a look of finality gracing her features. The Doctor sighed.

"No, no, it's not about that," he replied, squeezing his eyes up and gritting his teeth a bit. He released the gentle hold he'd had on her arms and turned away from her. "It's…something else. Something…important."

Clara, watching him move away from her, took in his body language. There was definitely something on his mind. She could see it in the way his shoulders hung, and the ambling way he walked across the room. Moving to one of the chairs lining the wall of the console room, he plopped down into it, crossed one leg over the other, folded his hands in his lap and looked at her. At that moment, an inspiration of how to begin this most tender topic occurred to him.

"Have you ever wondered what the wedding customs on Gallifrey are?" he asked. Clara crossed over to another chair facing his, and sat down slowly on it.

"I…I never gave it any thought," she confessed. "I guess I took it for granted that you wouldn't mind a human—English—ceremony."

"I don't mind that at all," he remarked. "I find your customs charming, and I'm happy to participate in them. It's just…there are a couple of Gallifreyan customs I'd like to incorporate in our wedding." Now that he'd broken the ice, he felt a bit less nervous about approaching the subject.

"I probably wouldn't have any objection to them as long as they don't involve the words 'naked' or 'obscene,'" she replied.

"What do you take us Gallifreyans for, barbarians? We are an old and ancient culture, Clara. Hardly uncivilized," the Doctor sniffed, a little insulted that she'd imply such a thing. "No, I have in mind one that would involve your father, and one that would be strictly between the two of us."

"You'd better tell me the one that includes my father first, as he'll be the hardest to convince participation out of," she remarked, dryly.

"Nothing more alarming than giving the bride away," the Doctor assured her. "It actually involves the three of us. You and I take a strip of cloth, about a foot long, and wrap each end of it around one hand. We hold it taut between the two of us, then your father gives his consent to our joining by stating, 'I consent and freely give.' If your mother was alive she'd state it too, but since she's not…it'll have to be just him."

"Is that all he has to do? That's very similar to an Earth ceremony…the father of the bride gives the bride away. He can do that without any trouble," Clara grinned.

"That's all he has to do," the Doctor replied. "You and I…well, if this was on Gallifrey, it would be much more complicated. But we'll leave it at the simple version. After your father consents, we each lean over to the other, one at a time, and confess our true names."

"But…I know yours already," she frowned. "And I don't have a 'true' name, it's just…Clara. Nothing timey-wimey about that."

"True," the Doctor stated, looking down at his shoes. "I guess that'll have to do. We'll just exchange names and leave it at that."

"Okay," Clara replied, clasping her hands and leaning forward on her knees. "So…what's the other custom you want to do?"

"That…will have to be done alone…between the two of us…on our wedding night," the Doctor murmured, giving Clara a veiled look that made her feel suddenly apprehensive.


	16. Chapter 15: You Want to do What?

"Doctor," Clara said slowly, carefully considering her next words. She cleared her throat and continued. "You do know that I'm a fully grown human woman, and am perfectly aware as to what I can expect on our wedding night." A mischievous sparkle twinkled in Clara's eye, and she decided to tease him a bit. "Especially since about a year ago I did have a peek at what I can expect to see. As a result I'm very sure you're a fully functioning male of your species. I don't doubt we'll know what to do."

The Doctor's eyes went very, very wide at that, and a bit of a blush stole across his face. "Clara!" he exclaimed, in a tone reminiscent of a scandalized Victorian. "I'm not speaking about that," he snapped.

"Then what are you talking about?" she replied, sitting back in her chair. Even in this new form, he was so easy to tease about certain things. And she did so love to wind him up. He was so adorable when he was flustered.

Looking at his hands clasped in his lap, the Doctor sighed. "This is hard enough to explain already. You're not making it any easier."

Taking pity on him, Clara gave him a bit of a frown mixed with a pout. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Go on."

He took a deep breath, and began. "You know that we are a telepathic species, right? It's so pronounced in us that of the women who choose to bear their young instead of using the looms," (" _Excuse me, the what?" Clara interjected. "The looms. I'll explain later. Don't interrupt."_ )"often are able to communicate with their young as soon as the fetus develops a functioning brain, at about two months. Family ties are especially strong telepathically."

Clara leaned forward again in her seat. This was fascinating, and unraveling more about him than she'd previously known. Yes, one of her echoes had lived on Gallifrey, but Clara could barely remember much about it-just the fleeting glimpse of an old man and his granddaughter, slipping into a Type 40 TARDIS at her instruction. No more than that.

The Doctor continued. "Since we are telepaths, there are some customs that have developed over the years around this part of our nature. In particular, there is a custom that is performed when two people decide to get married. It is a…joining of the minds, an exchange of psyche. We implant a portion of our essence into the other person. By doing so, we are joined together until death; even through multiple regenerations. We become one person, body, mind and spirit."

"This," he finished, giving her a penetrating look, "is what I'd like you and I to do with each other."

Several questions began spinning around in Clara's head, and she hardly knew where to start. Drawing in a sharp breath, she decided to begin with the most painful.

"How many times have you done this previously?" she asked, quietly.

"Once, " he responded quickly. "Only once. That was over almost two millennia ago, to a woman who is now dust."

In a small voice, Clara prodded him further. "What about…River?"

A very sour look crossed the Doctor's face. "I approached River about it, not long after we entered into a relationship. We were married, after all, and I felt it would be an important part of the way we related to each other. She…turned me down," he confessed, looking away from Clara and across the room. "Said it wasn't necessary in our case, since we hardly saw each other and even that out of sync with each other. After this last time I encountered her, and the way she flippantly took our marriage, I'm not surprised she didn't want to be permanently linked with me."

"I'm sorry," Clara softly said, reaching across to take one of his hands.

"Don't be. What's done is done with River Song, and my chapter with her is over. The last pages were written in our respective diaries, and the books are now closed. You are my future now," he smiled at her, and Clara felt the warmth of his affection wash over her. She smiled back.

"I would like to do it with you," she shyly proposed. "But…I don't know if I'm capable. I'm only human."

The change that went over him was instantaneous, and almost overwhelming. The gentle smile he'd been wearing was replaced by an almost glowing expression. His eyes had life and fire in them, and he grinned broadly. Watching him, Clara realized just what this meant to him.

"Do you really mean that, Clara? You must realize, doing this means you will be joined with me until one of us dies. There will be no room in our hearts and minds for anyone else. It's a very…permanent…act. And if I regenerate into someone else…if another man takes my place as the Doctor…you will be joined to him." He took both of her hands in his, and looked earnestly into her eyes.

"Doctor…I told you before…I'm in love with you—the inner, innate qualities and personality that make you the Doctor, whether you wear cat pins or celery stalks. I will still love you no matter what face you wear. If I can learn to love a cranky old Scot," she grinned, "I should be able to love whoever you are in your next regeneration."

"Right," he responded, sitting up straight and putting his hands on his thighs. "So. Is there anything else you need to know about this?"

"Yes," she sat back, playing with the rings on her fingers as she posed her next question. "How will I be able to do this with you if I'm not telepathic?"

"I've thought about that," he stated quickly, standing up and moving in an excited manner around the room. "Humans have a very low-level form of telepathy already. Think of it as your 'sixth sense,' that intuition you have from nowhere. What we need to do is build it up. You humans don't use the full capacity of your brains. There's a lot of room for expansion."

Clara considered what he was proposing. "You mean like…exercising my brain, or something?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Yes, exactly like that, but under my supervision. We're still a couple of weeks out to the wedding…we should have enough time to get your brain in gear and ready for the ceremony." He walked over to her chair and knelt in front of it. Taking her hands once more, he gave her an eager look. "We can start right now if you want."

She found her breath coming quickly with excitement. This was adding a new dimension to their relationship. The thought made her tingle with anticipation. "Okay," she ventured, her voice trembling a little. "What do we do?"

"We begin," he stated, reaching up to cup his hands around her face, "with a simple melding of the minds." His forehead touched hers, and Clara could feel his breath on her face. She tried to ignore his close proximity (she was so tempted to give him a kiss) and concentrate on what he was doing. She closed her eyes.

Immediately there was a warm, gentle presence flowing into her mind. She was aware of it being distinctly separate from herself, and yet, moving through her consciousness with practiced ease. She felt herself relaxing with the sensation. Then she heard his voice, but not from his lips—his mind instead communicating directly with hers.


End file.
